


North - Ray Kowalski Style

by Tatau



Category: due South
Genre: Community: ds_aprilfools, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-25
Updated: 2011-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-18 16:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tatau/pseuds/Tatau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Did you ever wonder how episode 2x01 would have played out if Fraser had been partnered with Kowalski then?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [ds_aprilfools](http://ds-aprilfools.livejournal.com/)round 2011, Prompt 16: radio silence
> 
>   
> This is less than beta-ed, this is so far un-betaed it's a wonder if you find any coherent text between typos, grammar mistakes and logical insconsistencies!

Fraser was in hot pursuit of the man who had brutally bashed the pub owner before taking the content of the cash register and making a run for it.

The bald man with the black leather jacket rounded the corner and Fraser heard Ray shout his name somewhere behind him but he was so close, he knew he could bring him in, so he rounded the corner – only to be met with a two-by-four to the head.

The crack of the impact was deafening and the last thing Fraser saw was the smirk of the fugitive and Ray’s face somewhere in the distance when he started to fall backwards from the force of the collision.

When he came to he saw green trees and smoke in the air. He blinked a few times but the image remained solid.

He looked around and found the vestiges of a light aircraft. This all seemed strangely familiar.

He felt nauseated and the blackness was pulling at him. Fraser tried to remain conscious but he started to lose focus and the next thing he knew everything went black.

Fraser had no idea how long he had been unconscious but he could still hear the sounds of animals and the rustle of trees even though he couldn’t see a single thing when he next regained consciousness.

“Ray?” he asked unsure.

“Yeah?” was the relieved reply. That was… strange. Ray’s voice sounded unusual.

“Where are we?” Fraser asked, hoping against hope that Ray would disabuse him of the notion that he was reliving an old memory of his.

There was a sigh before Ray answered.

“I couldn’t say for sure but it looks as if we crashed down right in the middle of this jungle.”

“Ah, I see,” Fraser answered, thinking ‘please let this be a bad dream’. After a second of thought he added, “Or rather I don’t see but I understand what you mean.”

In the next instant he felt a warm hand on his arm.

“What do you mean ‘you can’t see’?” Ray’s voiced was urgent even though it still sounded off. Had Ray Vecchio’s voice always sounded like this?

“It means I’m blind, Ray.”

“Holy shit!” There was some more cursing, but the comforting arm stayed on his arm. “Okay, I got you. Don’t worry, you’ll be alright all we need to do is get you to a hospital and—“

“Ray, the man who hijacked our plane is still at large. It is our duty to apprehend him before he can harm any more people.”

“Fraser, are you unhinged?” Fraser started almost violently.

This wasn’t Ray Vecchio at all! He had completely underestimated the power of assumption; the brain would gladly provide the framework for any given situation.

He had only expected the former Ray Vecchio which was why he hadn’t even entertained the notion that he could relive this particular episode with Ray Kowalski.

But he would recognize this parlance everywhere.

“Ray, it’s you! I mean, of course, it’s you but it is the new you. I wasn’t prepared for that.”

There was a shocked gasp before Ray’s voice sounded slightly hysterical near his ear again.

“Fraser, we are going to get you to a hospital right this instant. If you can’t even tell who I am then God knows what you’ll try next.”

“No, no, Ray. I assure you I’m fine – I was merely surprised.”

“Surprised?” Ray repeated doubtfully.

“I am capable of handling myself in any given situation, Ray. Right now it is paramount that we bring the fugitive criminal in before anyone else comes to harm.”

Ray’s long suffering sigh made it perfectly clear that he was long used to this pattern.

“You won’t stop pestering me before I agree, right? – And if I say ‘no’ I only end up doing it anyway …fine, let’s go bring him in. But you’ll accompany me to a hospital afterwards – just that we’re clear on this point.”

“Certainly, Ray.”

“Whatever,” Ray said well aware that Fraser would bring up enough reasons never having to set foot inside of a hospital once they got their man.

Fraser fished inside of his pockets and produced a small compass.

“Can you read a compass, Ray?”

“Of course Fraser, it was all part of my boy scout training, along with ‘talking to squirrels’ and ‘talking to owls for advanced learners’,” Ray answered sarcastically.

“Well, Ray, we’ll have to head west. We should come across a river valley then.” He handed Ray the compass.

“Greatness,” Ray said trying to make sense of the compass.

“Okay, okay,” Ray’s voice sounded slightly forced. “I can do this. West is— that way,” he mumbled.

“Ray, if you just keep talking it will be quite simple for me to follow you—“

“Talking? Fraser you could just put your hand—“

“I assure you I still have four senses intact. There isn't a thing in this forest that I can’t hear, taste, touch, smell, feel. It's a finely tuned ability gained from years of experience. So if you'll just stand aside I'll be on my —“

“Fraser!” Ray shouted – too late.

The ‘thud’ with which Fraser’s skull connected with a low tree branch had Ray wincing.

“This looked like it hurt,” Ray commented.

“A simple miscalculation on my part. A white ash, Fraxinus americania to be exact, branches close to the ground. Shall we?”

“Fine, have it your way.”

Ray stopped them when they came to a cliff. There was no damn river to be seen and certainly no other sign of civilization. Shit! Fraser should really see a doctor with that head wound. Stay calm, Ray told himself, Fraser doesn’t have to know how bad this looks.

“Ray, can you describe what you see, the river should be just about here.”

Ray silently worried his lower lip for a second.

“Yeah, just a bit further Frase.”

“Perfect. Onward,” and Fraser started to walk off the cliff.

Ray flung himself out and snatched Fraser around the chest.

“You always do this, do not do this Fraser,” Ray panted angrily.

“Do what Ray?”

“Do your own thing! You can’t even fucking see! So let me do this, ‘kay? I just—I just need a moment, is all.”

Well, the cliff made direction an easy decision. There was only one side they could go if they didn’t want to go back.

“It’s dangerous here, alright? I know, I know, you can navigate by smell and whatnot but right at the moment, I don’t care. So let’s just skip the demonstration for now, okay? Just grab some part of me and hold on.”

Fraser had a stubborn set to the jaw but after a second hesitation he nodded. “Very well, Ray.”

They walked silently for a moment before Fraser spoke again.

“Ray, I can feel the sun on the left hand side of my nose.”

Ray’s effort to roll his eyes was completely wasted on the blind Mountie.

“I think you’re a little off.”

More than a little if you asked Ray but what was he supposed to do? Jump down the cliff? Jeez… Fraser couldn’t do anything about the non-existent river either so all Ray had to do was make believe – he had always aced ‘make believe’ in school and in life, this should be easy.

“Trust me Fraser it’s easier this way. I’m just leading us around –uh- an obstacle.”

“Ray, even an error of one or two degrees could put us—“

“I know what I’m doing. I spent a few nights in the wilderness without any guide, alright? And I still found my way back, just for your information.”

“Alone?” Fraser asked.

Ray was quiet for a moment. “With …Jimmy Perkins, okay? …it doesn’t matter.”

They walked for hours without coming across either a river or help.

Just a moment ago Ray had even thought he’d recognized a bush that was shaped a bit like a turtle – if you squinted. They climbed up another small hill and when they reached the top Ray took in the scene in front of him.

He really hated having to admit defeat.

“I think we’re lost,” he said quietly.

“We merely don’t know where we are, Ray. Being lost is usually accompanied by a feeling of panic that causes people to walk in circles until they, well, eventually they die but as I said we—“

“It’s the plane crash,” Ray said annoyed.

“Another one? What are the odds?” Fraser asked surprised.

“No, you freak. Our, it’s our damn plane crash. WE walked in circles.”

“Oh.”

Suddenly shots rang out and Ray shouted “Get down” before he pushed Fraser behind the cover of a tree.

He pulled out his back up gun and fired in the vague direction. There was a dull sound when the bullet hit a tree. Shit, only two more left.

Ray aimed again and fired two more rounds into innocent green stuff.

“Ray your aim is truly appalling!” Fraser complained.

“You know I don’t see all that good without my glasses,” Ray mumbled.

“Then might I suggest you put them on?” Fraser asked annoyed.

“They didn’t survive the crash, okay?” He snapped. “I can see, just not good enough to make out one lone criminal hidden in this green jumble.”

There was rustling in the trees that got further and further away from them until it was quiet again.

Ray pocketed his useless gun and rubbed his neck. “Let’s see if we can find anything useful at the wreckage.”

Ray pulled on one of the almost ruined passenger seats and finally managed to get one out in the open. He pushed Fraser into one of them.

“Just wait here for a second. I’ll check if we really can’t do anything about the equipment of the plane.”

Ray climbed into the cockpit and gave the radio another go. The light on the damn thing was still flashing but all he managed to pick up was white noise. Great, radio silence, big fucking help.

It wasn’t like he had really expected it to work – sometimes he just didn’t like being right.

He tried sending an SOS signal again but with the state the radio was in it was impossible to tell if anything got through – and who might receive it. Maybe he was only alerting the polar bears with his radio waves.

Ray ransacked the rest of the stuff left inside of the plane but safe for a few bottles of water and a blanket there wasn’t much to work with. Dief was a wolf, couldn’t he come up with something for dinner?

When he climbed out again Fraser was unraveling a bandage. He walked over and took it out of his hands.

“Here, let me.” He pressed the cloth against the gash and fastened the bandage around Fraser’s head. Dief whined softly.

“Yeah, I don’t like it either, furface,” Ray murmured with a slight smile at the wolf.

Ray surveyed the wood next to their makeshift fireplace. At least something he could do; he might not be the biggest guy for survival in the wilderness but he was really, really good at barbecues.

In Ray’s mind he had spent half his teenage years at some BBQ area in forests or parks, he and a few buddies – no girls allowed – having a couple of beers and leaving the sausages too long in the flames and laughing about it afterwards. He smiled.

True, they had mostly used charcoal but they had built real fires often enough when they still thought that they had to prove their masculinity in some ridiculous way.

That was before Jimmy went out and… he shook his head, it didn’t matter anymore. It was a long time ago.

He started arranging the branches and the tinder.

“You know what I'm guessing... “ Fraser said. “I'm guessing the blow I received caused a subdural hematoma the resulting swelling of the anterior cerebrum put pressure on the optic nerve. Well at least it's not getting any worse. If I became disorientated, we'd really be in a pickle.”

The next thing Ray knew the fire he had just been about finished building was forcefully destructed by 190 pounds of Canadian Mountie.

“Ray if you're going to insist on moving this thing you really should tell a body.”

Ray looked at Fraser with a shocked expression on his face, he was just glad that Fraser couldn’t see his wide-eyed stare. He was really beginning to feel afraid for Fraser.

“Fraser, I—“ he thought of something comforting he could say when Fraser interrupted him.

“No need to apologize, Steve.”

Steve? Ray mouthed silently.

He stood up and gripped Fraser by the upper arms, peering intently at his face.

“Who am I, Fraser? Answer me!”

“Don’t be silly, Ray. I know who you are. I don’t suffer from memory loss.”

“Good… good,” Ray said trying to calm his heartbeat.

“Fraser if you don’t have any objections to my identity, can you just sit down again and let me finish the damn fire before we freeze to death?”

“You will need more tinder.”

Ray hung his head and rubbed his face. Fraser really, really wasn’t terribly good at this let-others-take-charge-for-once-thing.

“Be right back.” He went to get more tinder, more to get away than because he really believed that they needed it. This was just Fraser’s inability to surrender control.

Fuck! He was driving him nuts! Even after all this time Fraser couldn’t just freak out because he was blind all of a sudden and let Ray handle this – Ray couldn’t be any worse at this than Fraser the blind bat!

Okay, okay. Fraser was probably freaking out which was probably exactly the reason why he was trying so hard. Jesus… only a freak like Fraser would feel the need to prove something when he was stone blind.

Ray would be busy just keeping it together.

Fine, Ray could humor him – couldn’t be any worse than Ray’s fumbling.

“Where are you going?” he heard Fraser call when he approached their campsite.

“You wanted more tinder, didn’t you?” Ray asked puzzled. Maybe Fraser did have memory issues after all.

Ray relieved himself of his burden and rebuilt the fire.

While he was working Fraser started talking again. Ray wondered if it felt reassuring to Fraser, being able to at least hear himself if he couldn’t see himself to make sure he was still there?

When he was a small kid Ray had believed that he could become invisible if he closed his eyes hard enough in the dark… yeah, Ray had been a bit of an odd child when he was young.

“The wood's damp. Matches may not be the solution,” Fraser paused for a moment. “You know Ray, my father taught me how to build a fire when I was 6 years old. He took me out into the woods, gave me a piece of flint and a hunk of granite and he walked away without turning back.”

Ray watched Fraser for a moment. Maybe others had had an even shoddier childhood. “Are you sure he was trying to teach you how to built one? I mean, how were you supposed to know how it’s done?”

The longer he knew Benton Fraser the more Ray felt that his childhood explained a lot of things.

“You know the funny thing, I have absolutely no memory of the fire itself but I have this very vivid memory of the darkness and knowing that I was all alone.”

That was the saddest thing Ray had ever heard.

“When I was thirteen I had this buddy, Jimmy Perkins, he always had a rough time at home. Father was always drunk, he would hit him when he came home late… but of course, he always came home late because then he wouldn’t have to find his mother crying,” Ray sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair.

Fraser watched him silently.

“So one night, Jimmy wanted me to run away with him. And that’s what we did,” Ray chuckled quietly.

“We camped in the woods for two nights, none of us had any idea what we were doing, we only had milkduds and other sweets as provisions… quite heroic, huh?”

“I think it takes a certain amount of bravery from a thirteen year old to brave a forest at night.”

“Yeah, well… it only lasted those few days before we eventually had to get back.” Ray didn’t want to think about the reason why now.

“I’ll be right back… I need… we could use a bit more of the stuff that helps the fire burning.”

He went back between the trees and once he was out of earshot he started cursing.

“Shit, shit, shit!” He kicked a tree. He had not wanted to think about this particular memory. Fuck! And now Fraser was sitting out there, blind as a goldfish and Ray couldn’t do a single thing to help! Fuck!

“Stanley Raymond Kowalski!”

Oh no. This prim voice was Ray’s least favorite by a long shot. At some point in his life Ray’s voice of reason had started to sound like Mrs. McDevitt, his English teacher in Junior High. He had hated her with a passion… she had always made him do lines when she caught him using a four-letter word.

He could almost see her in front of him, with her librarian style glasses and her hair in a tight bun.

“You are not responsible for this man. It is quite obvious that his mental state is more than a little worrisome. Don’t you have any survival instinct at all, Stanley?”

She had always been a right old cow.

“He’s not just any man, he’s my best friend… and he was crazy right from the start.”

“He’s only going to get you killed. Where will you be then with your foolish loyalty?”

“I’d rather die trying to save him then live with myself for the rest of my life for abandoning him!”

Ray realized that he was shouting at thin air. Suddenly it made a world of sense that Fraser was always carrying on a conversation with no one but himself.

He needed rest, desperately so evidently.

He sighed and returned to the camp site. He looked at the matchbook in his hand and then back at Fraser who sat there looking pale, with his bandaged head and a tired twist around the mouth.

“Hey Frase, I seem to have problems with the finger thing. Think you can help me with it?” He tried to suppress the smile at Fraser’s eager expression.

“Certainly Ray, if you’d just hand me the matches.”

Ray got up and pushed them into Fraser’s waiting fingers. It didn’t even take Fraser any effort at all to get the fire going, eyesight or no eyesight.

He handed Fraser a blanket.

“Thank you. I'll go get some rest. We're going to have to double our pace if we want to catch him tomorrow.”

“Fraser… “ Ray closed his mouth again. If that’s what it took for Fraser to see this through than he would play along.

“Good night,” he said instead.

“Good night Steve.”

Ray’s head snapped up again to look at Fraser. Ray didn’t care if they ever caught this guy but Fraser needed to see a doctor. The way he saw it, they needed to reach the river whether Fraser wanted to get his man or if he wanted to get Fraser back to civilization.

He just feared that getting out of here and catching the guy was related despite what he or Fraser might prefer – with Fraser it usually was. He was a magnet or something when it came to crime, the perps probably couldn’t even help crossing his path.

 **TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

Ray opened his eyes blearily and looked around.

“Hey, you’re up,” he said once his gaze came upon Fraser.

“Yes. I didn't want to wake you. I've made breakfast.“

Ray looked at the bowl with the worms and made a face. “That’s disgusting. Maybe they can do something for your optic nerve but I won’t risk mine if that’s alright with you.” Ray took a look at their campsite.

“Let’s try and reach the river today,” he said and bent down to ruffle Dief’s fur.

“Excellent plan. He can’t have too much of a head start, I’d say chances are good that we’ll catch up with him before we reach the river.”

At least Fraser looked alright; the night of sleep had probably done him good.

“Greatness. Let’s go get our legs in working order then, pitter-patter, time’s a-wasting.” Ray joked lamely but Fraser started laughing as if it was the most hysterical thing he had heard in a long time.

Maybe Fraser’s mental state was still up to debate.

“I know I’m a funny guy, Fraser. But I’m not that funny so what’s up?”

Fraser continued laughing before he managed to calm down enough to answer Ray. “Well it would appear that I have lost the use of my legs.”

Ray experienced a brief feeling of vertigo. He watched Fraser’s attempts to raise himself out of the seat with an open mouth.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

It wasn’t that Fraser’s blind stumbling had been much help to their current situation but… losing the use of your legs had to be several steps down on the ‘it’s not getting worse’-ladder.

His faced moved in quick succession through all the appropriate expressions – horror, pity, hopelessness, defeat and fear – while he swallowed curse after curse that rose to his lips.

Ray took a deep breath. “I-I’ll redistribute the baggage… Dief can carry a bit himself, can’t you wolf?” Dief gave an approving yip and Ray tried not to read too much into the fact that he had started to talk to wolfs.

“I’m sure it’s only temporary, Fraser. As soon as we get to the stream we can find help, okay?” And Ray wasn’t sure if he was trying to assure Fraser or himself.

“I just—I can carry you… just until you get the feeling back in your legs.”

“Ah yes, Ray. I’m sure it’s only a temporary condition,” Fraser replied heartily.

Ray staggered under Fraser’s weight. Couldn’t he have a ballet dancer as a partner, just for today?

He could only hope that the river was indeed as close as Fraser thought it was.

“Ray if at any point during our trip I should become a burden to you, you would let me know wouldn't you?“

“Fraser, do me a favor? Cut the crap,” Ray snapped. “That’s what partnership is all about, okay? You take the good with the bad and you work damn hard that the good stuff always comes out on top. And we’re damn good partners, Fraser!” He sucked a breath in and struggled forward.

When he couldn’t walk anymore he dropped Fraser to the ground and tried to get his lungs back into an agreeable working relationship.

“Thirsty?” he wheezed and Fraser nodded. “Yes, please.”

Ray got out a bottle of water and unscrewed the bottle cap. “Here, I’ll be right back. Gotta use the can.”

He tried to work some spit back into his mouth. Two bottles of water wasn’t exactly much. He heard Mrs. McDevitt in his ear again, raving about not giving all the water away and whatnot. Sad thing she wasn’t dead… unpleasant people always lived longer… especially the ones that didn’t like Ray. It was a universal law. He had come to accept that.

All Ray could see was looking down the boulder to find Jimmy Perkins lying on the ground with his leg twisted in such an odd angle that it made Ray retch just looking at it.

If Ray concentrated he could see the man with reddish-brown hair and a mischievous smile who told him that it wasn’t his fault and that Ray had done everything he could… it was only in Ray’s mind that Jimmy Perkin would forever be 13 and lying at the bottom of the cliff.

“…you ill?” he heard Fraser ask indignantly somewhere in the distance. Ray could only hope that he was talking to the wolf… and that the answer was a negative one.

In a way Ray was glad that Fraser had already been a freak before their plane had crashed, that way the talking to himself stuff didn’t really add to his list of worries.

The marched further until even Ray felt that they were making some progress. Ray stretched his legs and watched Fraser blindly tying rocks together with a string. It looked weird but then again, it was probably supposed to look like that.

“What’s that supposed to be once it’s finished?” Ray asked eyeing the thing curiously. It looked like something right out of 10.000 BC or some other Stone Age movie.

“It's called a bola, Ray. The Inuit use it to hunt.”

‘Hunt’ was something Ray associated with sharp things, preferably with blades. Couldn’t Fraser have carved a spear or something instead of some weird stone yo-yo?

“And you can use it blind?”

“Well, strictly speaking you could use every weapon without the help of your eyes to guide you but you would need to rely very heavily on your remaining senses and… results might not be as accurate as necessary.”

Ray had a bad feeling about this.

“What are you saying Fraser?”

He knew what was coming.

“You’ll have to use it, Ray.”

Of course, ‘Hunting with a bola’ had also been one of those Boy Scout classes Ray had gotten a badge for in some other lifetime.

“Now take this, stand up and spin it. Now when you get enough momentum let it go,” Fraser explained.

Ray spun the bola – practicing this with one stone first might have been a good idea. He let it go and it crashed in a tree somewhere to the left. Hm… it was a bit like Baseball, you had to figure out at which point the ball would go in which direction depending on the way you held the bat.

He went to look for his new toy and when he came back Fraser was looking eerily calm.

“There’s no one with a weapon around who will jump out at me any second, is there?” he asked only half joking.

“I’ve stopped sweating.” Fraser said with forced ease.

Ray looked put out. Usually people meant that in a good way.

“And this is bad because…?”

“Well a person ten percent dehydrated suffers from dizziness, nausea, swollen tongue. At fifteen percent from dimmed vision, loss of muscle control, painful stools,” Fraser explained carefully neutral.

Ray’s eyes widened. He took in Fraser’s unseeing eyes and his useless legs and whispered, “Fifteen percent?”

“Ah, yes, I’m afraid the inability to sweat indicates a loss of anywhere between ten and fifteen percent.”

Ray balled his hands into fists. “How many stages are left after that?” He ground out with some effort.

“Death happens at twenty percent.”

Not on Ray’s watch, no way. He went to Dief who had a bag slung over his back and got the other water bottle out. It was only half full if anything.

“Drink this… we should be at the river soon,” Ray said quietly.

Fraser gulped the water down thirstily and Ray watched with some apprehension when the last drops trickled down.

The sooner they reached this river the better.

They continued on their way and Fraser started singing. It wasn’t that Fraser didn’t have a nice voice or anything but… God, Ray wasn’t even in hell yet and he already had to listen to Beethoven? German was really a godawful language to listen to.

Maybe Fraser was already losing his grip and this was his very own version of blithering? Where were they at when the Mounties started singing in German? Eighteen percent or something perhaps?

“Hey Fraser, how did this June do with building a fire?”

Fraser stopped singing abruptly.

“June?”

Ray had a sinking feeling in his gut.

“Yeah, wasn’t she the girl in your Scout troop? The one with the boiling water?”

“Yes, Ray. Oh, well, June and a fire was an even worse combination than she and the water, as you can probably imagine…”

And Fraser was off telling his weird little anecdotes and Ray relaxed slightly. As long as Fraser had a story for every occasion they might still come out of this alive.

“… of course, that meant that Innusiq and I had to improvise in order to save—“

“Wait a second!” Ray interrupted.

“the remains of the tent, otherwise—“

“I said: shut up!” Ray shouted and Fraser indeed stopped talking.

“Fraser we made it!!” Ray shouted excited. “There’s the damn river!”

Ray stumbled the remaining distance and filled the water bottles in the river. He handed one to Fraser before draining the other one himself and filling it a second time.

“You alright, Fraser?”

“I- I think I felt a twitch.” Fraser was probably underestimating like usual. Things Fraser described as ‘tiny’ like ‘small problems’ were usually not even measurable by normal people for their sheer magnitude. That twitch might just as well be a full-body muscle spasm.

“You just wait and see Fraser; everything’s going to be alright.” Hey, there were worse mantras. “Can you stay here for a moment? I’ll go and relieve Dief from his burden… damn wolf is probably demanding a dozen donuts for this disaster,” Ray grumbled while he moved to where Dief was sulking.

“Leave him, take the raft you can still get your man.”

Fraser turned into the vague direction the voice was coming from. And he had been wondering where his dad had gone.

“Absolutely not,” he replied evenly.

Ray turned and looked back. He could have sworn Fraser had said something.

Bob looked shocked. “They'll have you up on charges.”

“Do you ever listen to yourself?” Fraser felt the need to point out.

Ray released the clasp that held the bag around Diefenbaker. “I didn’t even say anything, Fraser!” He shouted back.

“Not you...him,“ Fraser answered annoyed.

Ray let his gaze slide over the empty river bank. Just because he felt haunted by Jimmy Perkin’s 13 year old form didn’t mean Fraser should be able to see him.

He could even hear him if he strained to listen. “You did good Ray.” And Ray really wanted to believe that. “Yeah, just a bit too late for you,” he muttered, his eyes fixed on the bag in his hands but his gaze miles away. “You’re a stubborn man Stan… you saved me you asshole.”

Ray sighed. He’d had this conversation a thousand times in his head. “I shouldn’t have—“

“Look you don't just leave a man in the wilderness and hope that he'll survive... they don't thank you for it,” Fraser interrupted Ray’s little time travel back into his childhood.

“Fraser I never complained that you’ve left me alone in the wilderness. I know I’m a nag and everything but I’ve never said – hey! You didn’t just tell me that story about your dad abandoning you in the darkness because—I know I shouldn’t have left Jimmy but this is really no way to tell a guy—“

“Ray, what are you talking about?”

“I—uh, forget it. What do we do now?”

“We’ll use the raft as bait to lure him here.”

Ray looked around. Had he missed something?

“Which raft Fraser?”

“The one we’re going to built.”

“Fraser you can’t use your legs,” Ray tried to say as gently as he could.

“Oh no...Ray you remember that twitch I mentioned earlier?”

Ray’s head snapped up. “Yeah?”

“Protract my lower lumbar would ya?” It was possible that this made sense on some other planet.

“Come again?”

“Well just put your knee in my back and pull,“ Fraser explained.

Sounded excruciating but Ray could do this. He moved behind Fraser and pulled.

There was a scream like something dying a particularly painful death and then Fraser was panting heavily.

Ray patted him on the shoulder and squeezed once. Fraser flexed his legs and Ray did a little jig even though no one could see him do it.

They were almost finished with gathering the wood and Fraser had almost all of the logs bound together when they heard a twig snap.

Fraser moved to the tree line with Ray hot on his heels.

“Fraser I hate to say this but there’s a flaw in your plan.”

“Such as?”

“We don’t have any weapon. We lured him here, he took the bait, he’s coming after us and we have-no-fucking-weapon!” Ray sounded upset.

“On the contrary, we have the bola.”

Ray looked at the rocks on a string. “Fraser I can’t aim with this thing.”

“Well, you’ll have to.”

And wasn’t that typical? When did Fraser care if Ray could do something or not, he had to do it anyway. Ray sighed.

If he got shot while he was risking his neck throwing rocks at a guy heavily armed with a 9mm sig saur and more ammunition than could fit into one Ray Kowalski he at least wanted someone to know the end of his camping story.

“You know Fraser, that time I spent in the wilderness with Jimmy Perkins?” He pushed at Fraser to move further into the trees.

“It was my fault that we had to go back,” Ray shouted breathlessly, looking for an opening in their cover to at least see where the guy with the weapon was.

“Ray, is this story assisting you with your use of the bola or why are you telling me this now?”

“It’s just… well, after the second night we were kinda hungry, you know? So I figured I got to take control here and I said “Hey, let’s split up, find something edible. Nuts or berries or stuff” and—go, go, go,” He pulled Fraser further; he thought he had just seen something blue flash between the trees.

“So we did and I came back after a few hours with nothing much to show but Jimmy didn’t return so—well, so I went looking for him. I found him an hour later... lying at the bottom of a cliff.”

“Ray you didn’t push him down there,” Fraser said with a frown on his face. “You know how important it is to watch your step.”

“Yeah, I know, but Jimmy Perkins didn’t and—God, you didn’t see his leg. It looked all wrong and there was a piece of bone showing and… I have no idea how long he had been lying down there but—“

“Ray – the river,” Fraser reminded him. He squinted through the trees before pulling on Fraser’s sleeve again, “go, go, go,” he chanted.

“And I climbed down there and then I took him piggyback and I think he lost consciousness because of the pain and I had no idea how far it was to get out again—“

“The raft,” Fraser said and Ray shot a quick glance along the riverbank.

“I managed to find the way back somehow and they patched Jimmy up so—“

“Ray, you risked yourself to help him, I don’t think Jimmy Perkins believed it was your fault.”

They crouched beneath the raft.

“That’s what Jimmy told me later, too. But still…”

“Ray where is he?”

“Fifty yards.”

“Perfect, now remember to release the bola at the last moment; you have to use its momentum.”

Ray looked towards their wannabe pilot and let the bola rotate. Damn, he hated it when Fraser made him do stuff he couldn’t pull off in a million years – this was as improbable as hitting a homerun for God’s sake!

Ray squinted. He couldn’t even really see the guy. Maybe his best shot was trying to hit the rocks above him in the hope that it would bury him underneath the resulting rubble. He didn’t have any choice but to risk it anyway, they were all out of options.

So Ray tried to do that and he let go and he vaguely heard Fraser trying to get up next to him – at least there was a ‘thunk’ or something from his left.

The bola collided forcefully with the throat of the criminal and wrapped itself around him. Ray watched this scenario unfold with his jaw open. Good thing he had such a left-hand twist with this thing… how it could have ended up, like, 10 feet lower than he had intended he had no idea, but who cared? They had their man!

“Hey, Fraser! I did it!”

There was a groan next to him and Ray turned to find Fraser rubbing his head. Fraser looked up at the movement and—“Hey, can you see me again?” Ray asked surprised at Fraser’s focused look.

“You got your man.” Bob Fraser said immensely pleased with himself.

“Yes, thank you,” Fraser answered.

“Heh, mucho welcome.” Ray reached out to pull Fraser up.

“But I think he's dead,” Fraser’s Dad added with a frown.

“It’s just, uhm, you see, it kinda wrapped around his throat…” Ray gestured at the criminal with an embarrassed rub of his neck.

“Oh… oh dear.”

“Yeah… well, it just wasn’t his kinda day. Uh… what do you say, we get the hell outta here?” Ray said, trying to change the subject.

“Ah, yes. Let’s get the raft.”

“The raft?” Ray intoned with disbelief.

“Why yes, how had you intended to leave here?” Fraser asked puzzled.

“You said it was bait.”

“It was.”

“Fraser you do not get me on a raft,” Ray said with vehemence.

“Why not Ray?”

“Because I can’t swim.”

“You said you couldn’t use the bola either,” Fraser pointed out.

“Yeah, that was a freak accident. But I’m not taking my chances with the wet element.”

“Oh, Ray this is really ridiculous,” Fraser said annoyed.

“Fraser, can you hear me?” Ray asked worried.

Fraser frowned. Where had the change in topic come from?

“Fraser? This is Ray from the material world.”

Fraser wanted to answer, tell Ray that he was right in front of him and that he could see him perfectly well but his vision was developing odd patches of blackness… his head hurt.

“Fraser?”

Dizziness made him spin and he felt the world go black.

“Buddy? You still in there?”

Fraser regained consciousness with a groan. His head felt like it was about to split open.

He was lying on the hard concrete of a back alley in Chicago.

“He clocked you good. Just lie there for a second, okay? An ambulance is on its way.”

“What about the—“

“The guy? Don’t worry, he ran straight into Hewey and Dewey around the corner… it wasn’t his kinda day, I guess. You got your man, so can you relax already?” He pushed at Fraser chest and Fraser lay back down with a sigh of relief.

“You were out for quite a while there Frase.”

“It was… interesting,” Fraser hedged.

“Interesting? Only a freak like you could find getting knocked out cold interesting.”

“Understood.”


End file.
